


The Lost Shoe

by Tadpole4176



Series: The Very Un-Grand Tour [3]
Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship, Gen, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27063112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tadpole4176/pseuds/Tadpole4176
Summary: All Jeremy, Richard and James can think is that Mr Wilman's getting short of ideas for his downscaled adventures. They've been shrunk again, but obviously this time their friend thought he needed to up the stakes. Worse than being trapped with insects, or accidentally breaking into the Top Gear studio, they're deposited in a room full of babies. Then, just to top it off, they're supposed to be searching for a shoe.
Series: The Very Un-Grand Tour [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890685
Comments: 21
Kudos: 5





	1. The Alarm

“This is getting ridiculous,” declared Jeremy, holding out his phone with Wilman’s latest challenge written on it. “We must get three matchbox toy cars that are robust and have a roof.”

“Robust? Hmm, not sure I like the sound of that,” said James. “Usually he’s looking to make us get flimsy things and end up in trouble or with a car that’s broken in half. Like that two wheel drive thing across Africa.”

“I’m getting fed up of being shrunk too,” added Jeremy. “Being small is something that suits Hamster, it’s not right for me.”

“Oy! That’s hardly fair,” protested Richard. “It’s not like I’m normally 2 or 3 cm tall.”

“You are,” said Jeremy, patting him on the head, then moving on before he could really protest further. “Apparently our mission is to search for some shoe,” he paused, “he says we’ll recognise it when we see it.”

“A shoe? That’s a new one,” commented James. “Search where?”

“It’s not saying,” replied Jeremy, checking his messages carefully just in case he’d missed something.

“Fellas, I’m sleeping with my boots on tonight,” said Richard.

“Yeah, and jelly babies in my pocket,” added Jeremy.

……………………………………………………………

Richard groaned, rolling over in the darkness to realise that firstly, he was unexpectedly pressed up against another warm body, and secondly that there was a really loud noise.

“Can you turn the alarm off?” he grumbled, still mostly asleep, into the ear of the other person.

“Hmm?” the other person turned out to be Jeremy, also mostly asleep and, once Richard had opened an eye to look, clearly none the wiser about where the noise was coming from. “What are you doing in my… oh.” Jeremy sat up, abruptly, rubbing at his face. “Richard?”

“Yeah,” replied Richard, crawling away from Jeremy to prod James who, impressively, hadn’t apparently been aroused by the horrendous noise.

“James?” he called in James’s ear. “James!”

“What?” said James, also without opening his eyes.

“Did you set an alarm?”

“Why would I do that?” James opened his eyes, primarily to glare at Richard, which was his first instinct.

“Just wondering, terrible loud noise, thought it might be an alarm,” suggested Richard, staggering to his feet and, finally taking a look around. “It still looks dark,” he said. “I can see our cars though, I think we’ve been shrunk already.”

“It’s wrong that that seems so normal,” stated James.

“Just checking my pockets,” said Jeremy, also rising to his feet and producing a packet of jelly babies. “Here, want one?”

Richard took a couple. “Cheers. Want to check out the cars while James wakes up?”

“Yeah, he could be a while,” agreed Jeremy. “Which one’s yours.”

“The golf,” grinned Richard, gesturing at a mk1 golf in a spectacular shade of orange.

“That’s going to break in half if we have to go over any rough terrain.”

Richard shrugged. “At the moment all I can see is smooth carpet, I think I’ll live. It’s got a roof and it’s made of metal. And it’s quick – good for escaping.”

“Whereas I’ve gone for the ultimate in ruggedness, the hummer,” beamed Jeremy, waving his arm at the enormous car.

“That’s quite… large.”

“Yes,” agreed Jeremy. “I thought about another Aston Martin, then remembered the problems I had getting into it.”

“Oh yeah,” chuckled Richard. “We should test the driving positions.”

“I really hope I fit!” exclaimed Jeremy. “If a hummer turns out to be too small, I’m really not sure where to go!”

“Back to the Batmobile, I suggest,” put in James, moving over to stand next to them, though he still appeared to have his eyes closed. “Whilst I have a Range Rover Evoque,” he added. “Sensibly sized, lovely car, great for getting over bumpy road surfaces should the need arise, without resorting to ridiculousness.”

“We’re shrunk and hunting for a shoe, James,” responded Jeremy from within the hummer, “I think it’s too late to worry about anything being ridiculous.”

“Good point,” nodded James, moving over to inspect his evoque, ignoring Jeremy’s cries behind him.

“Yeeessss!” yelled Jeremy. “I fit!”

“Good one, mate,” said Richard. “Me too!”

“Could it be that we’ve been successful in something?” suggested Jeremy.

Richard tilted his head. “Well, we’ve not actually set off yet, don’t even know where we are or if the cars are capable of propulsion, and we’ve definitely not found a shoe. I’m going to say that we can’t quite declare sitting down and reaching the pedals a total success.”

“Hmm, maybe not ambitious enough,” concurred Jeremy. “We’d better drive somewhere then. James! You want a jelly baby before we set off?”

………………………………………………………

“Jez?” called Richard, shouting out of the window of his car, his voice filled with the dread he could feel creeping up his stomach. “I think I know what the noise is.”

“What?” Jeremy yelled back, still barely audible over the background noise.

“It’s a baby. We’re in some sort of sleep room for babies.”

“Oh my God,” said James, stopping and climbing out of his car. “I think I might have had a nightmare about something like this once.”

“Yeah,” nodded Richard, staring at the multiple cots and the, still wailing, baby. “Not sure I want to be small whilst navigating through a room full of babies.”

“They’re not very fast though, are they?” pointed out Jeremy.

“I think the awake ones are faster, but possibly a bit quieter,” replied James.

Richard patted his car. “I hope this is fast enough.”

“Yeah, that gives a whole different kind of meaning to rough terrain,” commented James.

Jeremy snorted. “If we’re in a nursery, and this is where the babies live, where will they keep the shoes? I don’t think we’ll want to be coming back if we don’t check.”

“On their feet?” suggested Richard.

“Not the lost ones,” said James. “They’ll keep those behind the back of the sofa, I expect.”

“So we need to check all the places where shoes could be hidden, then head for the door?” proposed Jeremy.

“Pretty much, yeah,” said Richard. “But first we need someone to open the door into the main room.”

“OK, line up by the door,” suggested James. “Then once we’re through we’ll split up?”

“Babies,” said Jeremy, shaking his head. “We should stick together? That way you can be my decoy if one of them comes after us.”

“Thanks,” said James, his eyebrows raising sceptically.

……………………………………………….

Jeremy was the first to enter the baby room when the door opened, the others following him closely enough that there were a couple of minor knocks on the way through. Still, had they not been right behind him, he thought there was a decent chance he might have backed right up at the first sight of a baby crawling directly towards him.

It was enormous. He was taking on a giant, unpredictable baby.

They were doomed.

“Lads?” said Jeremy. “Floor it!”

They did. Emerging through the door, the three of them shot off at speed, racing into the larger room at a pace that was too great for a crawling baby, continuing until Jeremy spotted another one.

“There’s more than one!” he screamed.

“I know,” said James from behind him. “Help me!”

Jeremy and Richard screeched to a halt under a nearby cushion, praying that none of the babies came looking for them, and peered back to look for James, genuinely afraid to get out of their cars.

For several moments, James could only see blackness, the air in the car felt stifling, and he was certain that it was the effect of both the clammy hand that was holding on to his car and his own panicked breathing. Then, thankfully, the hand backed up a bit, and he could actually see a little bit through the windscreen.

He could see teeth.

And drool.

James yelled again, even more urgently. “Help!” But he knew that realistically there was nothing the others could do.

As James crouched in the car, taking his extremities as far from the sides of the vehicle as possible, as four prominent teeth came down on the roof and underside of the car to a terrible crunching noise, then the hand moved him sideways slightly, and he found himself rubbed against the drooling gums, the open windows of the car flooding with saliva.

“That is truly disgusting,” objected James, failing to deter the baby.

Below him, if anything, things were worse.

Jeremy and Richard stared at the baby chomping on James’s car.

“I know they said robust, but this really isn’t what I was imagining,” said Richard, unable to take his eyes off the scene before him. “James is really not going to be pleased.”

Jeremy snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think babies and OCD mix that well.”

“I don’t think it’s got the power to crush him though, so he’ll be fine – after a bit of therapy,” added Richard.

“Richard?” whispered Jeremy.

“Yeah?”

“I think we’ve got our own problems! Incoming!”

As they retreated further under the cushion, all they could see was a nappy clad baby’s bottom aiming directly for them, moving closer and closer until, with a disturbing rustle of nappy, and an alarmed squeak from Richard, they were trapped.

“Jez? You OK?” called Richard into the claustrophobic darkness.

“I think I’m going to need therapy too,” said Jeremy. “I remember what these things were like when my kids were little.”

“Yeah, me too,” agreed Richard, “do you think anyone thought to supply us with gas masks?”

A noise that resembled thunder echoed through their tiny hideout, shaking both the cushion and the nappy, and making both Jeremy and Richard cough.

“I think it’s too late,” choked Jeremy. “That was a big one.”

“We’ve got to get out of here,” gasped Richard. “There could have been an actual delivery with that.”

“We’re stuck, no way to drive out,” protested Jeremy. “I don’t even have air conditioning.”

“Forget the car, we can get out ourselves, come back for the cars later.”

“What if another baby grabs us and tries to eat us?!”

“At this point, I’m thinking that would be preferable,” said Richard.

“I hate to admit this,” began Jeremy, because this is your idea, “but you’re right, let’s get out of here before we suffocate.”

“Only one problem,” added Richard. “Do you remember which way the nappy was, and which way the cushion was? I don’t think I want to risk touching that nappy.”

Jeremy chuckled again. “I didn’t think to bring a hazmat suit,” he wheezed, climbing out of his car and feeling his way to where he thought Richard had parked in order to drag him out too, grabbing hold of his shirt and giving him very little choice.

“Hang on a minute, you ape!” cried Richard. “Just give me chance to get through the window, will you!”

“Come on,” insisted Jeremy, loosening his grip nonetheless. “I don’t think there’s much oxygen left in here.”

Another rumble sounded beside them, this time with a distinctly wet noise to it.

“Well at least I know which way to run now,” gasped Richard.

Jeremy nodded, despite the darkness, and still holding on to Richard, felt his way to the edge of the cushion. “We’re going to have to burrow under it,” he whispered.

“It can’t hear you, Jez,” pointed out Richard.

“I don’t want to attract any more babies!” exclaimed Jeremy.

“Good point. So burrowing, we just get on our stomachs and go for it, I guess?”

“Both at once is probably easier,” said Jeremy, moving onto his stomach with a groan.


	2. Rattle

James’s captor finally grew bored of chewing the evoque, apparently deciding it didn’t taste that great, and simply let go, leaving James with several moments of freefall to close his eyes and try to pretend that nothing was happening. Then, with a thump that shook him around badly enough to leave him dazed for a moment, he hit the carpet and was able to take a breather.

The car had landed on its side. James, after checking for incoming babies, hauled himself out of the passenger window and behind the car, taking a few minutes to sway the car upright again and check that all four wheels were still attached. Then, brushing off his soggy clothes and seats, but wary of further attacks, he climbed back into the car, wondering where the others had got to.

It wasn’t pleasant under the cushion, even with Jeremy’s bulk holding some of the cushion off the ground beside him, Richard felt very much as though he was being crushed, and likely still slowly suffocating. The smell was better, but otherwise it didn’t seem like that much of an improvement. He inched forwards, determined to escape and breathe actual fresh air, convinced that it couldn’t be long before they reached the other side of the cushion.

Thankfully, he was right. The cushion wasn’t wide, one of those intended to support babies who can’t yet sit, Richard suspected, his head emerging into an open space with clear air. Even as his legs were still beneath the cushion, he paused to take several deep breaths. Then, hauling his legs out behind him, he reached down to lift the edge of the cushion where Jeremy was crawling, trying to relieve the weight on him as he crawled through.

“Thanks, Hamster,” grinned Jeremy, his head emerging moments later to the unpolluted air. “That’s much better.”

It took a while, and a considerable amount of moaning, to extract the remainder of Jeremy from the cushion. Richard certainly couldn’t pull him free, and with fresh air in his lungs, Jeremy didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry to pull himself out, so they remained panting at the side of the cushion for several minutes, until a warning noise spurred Jeremy into action.

“What is that?” asked Jeremy, looking round from his position, still pinned to the floor.

“I’m going to say it’s a rattle,” said Richard. “Do you think you could get a move on, before it arrives?”

“OK, keep your hair on, I’m getting there. I’m an old man, you know. Do you think you could help a bit?”

“You’re also a gigantic, fat git, so no, not really, I’ve given that a try already,” retorted Richard. “You’re going to have to put some effort in yourself.”

“Manual labour,” grumbled Jeremy, nonetheless starting to make some headway. “You are just too titchy to be of any practical use.”

“Yes, mate, you tell yourself that,” laughed Richard. “But quietly, because you really need to get out here now!”

The rattle was definitely moving closer.

“Do you think we can outrun a giant baby?” asked Richard, more to himself than anything.

“Not whilst stuck under a cushion,” groaned Jeremy, finally extracting his lower limbs. “I’m cramping up, I don’t think I can outrun anything just now, not even Captain Slow,” he added, I’m just going to lie here and enjoy my last moments.”

“Wait!” exclaimed Richard.

“I am waiting,” said Jeremy. “I think you’ll find that was the whole point.”

“James is here! Come on, get up!” Richard grabbed Jeremy’s arm, attempting to haul him upright.

“Are you two pillocks getting into trouble?” asked James, pulling his car up alongside them.

“We were handling it,” protested Richard. “Mostly. You look, umm, moist.”

“Yeah, it turns out babies really produce a lot of that,” grinned James.

“Other end too,” sympathised Richard, wafting at the air past his nose, in an effort to inform James without actually saying the words.

“What’s up with him?” James looked down at the sprawled figure of Jeremy at Richard’s feet.

“Old age and dry rot, I think, the usual.”

“Need a hand?” offered James, climbing out of his car and positioning himself on the other side of Jeremy, ready to haul him up.

“Thanks,” grinned Richard, grabbing hold of Jeremy’s arm again, and this time, with James’s help, getting Jeremy to his feet.

“Get in the car, Jez,” said James, giving the older man a gentle shove.

“I wouldn’t be seen dead in…”

“That’s what you’ll be in a minute,” pointed out James, patiently. “Somehow I don’t think the car’s that bad.” He turned to Richard. “I’ve got this, you climb in the back.” Well aware that there were only two doors on his toy car.

James finally climbed back in just in time, he closed the door and immediately, the rattle thumped against the roof of the car.

“I think that just rattled my whole skull loose,” complained Jeremy.

“Not much difference then,” laughed James and Richard together, both of them with their hands over their ears.

“How about driving away then, Slow? Are you just waiting for another round?”

“Sorry,” said James, placing his hands firmly on the steering wheel and speeding away, thankfully out of range of the rattle and beneath a doll’s cot to regroup.

……………………………………………………………

“So,” said Jeremy, sitting against the wall, in the shade under the cot, looking at his dishevelled friends. “There aren’t likely to be many shoes in the baby room, really we should just be looking to get out of here.”

“It’s pretty hazardous,” nodded Richard.

“Definitely,” agreed James.

“We do have to get our cars back, and we need to find some sort of food. I propose we wait til the babies leave in the afternoon, then sneak across the room.”

“That’s no good,” said James. “Wilman said the cars won’t work out of hours. We can sneak, but only without the cars.”

“I think I’ve solved the food problem,” put in Richard. “Look.” He walked to the edge of the cot, patting his hand against a jar that lay on its side there, then cautiously stepping behind it to roll it towards his friends.

“Baby food?” said Jeremy.

Richard shrugged. “Beggars and all that.”

“I’d eat it, for the sake of spending less time mauled by infants,” put in James.

“What flavour is it?” asked Jeremy.

Richard peered at it, “Shepherd’s Pie.”

“Let’s get the lid off,” sighed Jeremy, getting up to inspect the cap.

The jar was probably three times even Jeremy’s height, and it took all three of them to budge the cap even slightly, but finally they did and cold, mushed shepherd’s pie spilled out in front of them.

“That looks horrible,” complained Jeremy.

“It looks edible,” said Richard, “justabout. At least there probably aren’t any dogs in it.”

“Probably,” grinned James, reaching out to scoop a handful of the food and bringing it to his nose to sniff at it dubiously.

“That is pretty grim,” agreed Richard, trying to swallow without tasting and not really succeeding.

“The things we do,” laughed Jeremy, pulling his own disgusted face but still managing to swallow some of the substance. “And I’ll eat pretty much anything, as you know.”

“Brains, eyeballs, man parts…” grinned Richard. “Somehow that makes this seem much better, thanks!”

James snorted.

“If you two have quite finished,” commented Jeremy. “I think it’s time to retrieve our vehicles, the natives seem to mostly be napping.”

“Right,” said Richard, climbing into James’s car enthusiastically. “Let’s hope it’s not buried in a mound of poo!” he added.

“Well if it is, and you go to inspect it, you’re not getting back in my car afterwards,” said James.

Richard pulled a face. “That’s horrible!”

“What is?” put in Jeremy.

“Having to get back in his car!” teased Richard, laughing at the put out expression on James’s face.

“He’s going to have to ride in the boot soon,” grumbled James good-naturedly. “Back seat isn’t far enough away.”

“Oy!” protested Richard, still laughing.

“Come on, old man, get in,” added James, leaning over to peer out of the passenger door at Jeremy, who seemed to be taking an age to climb in. “I don’t think babies sleep that long.”

“That could be a new measure of baby sleeping time, the number of Clarksons they’ve achieved,” grinned Richard.

“I heard that, Hamster,” shot back Jeremy, finally bending down with a groan to get into the car.

“You were meant to.”

“Right,” said James. “Before someone ends up being abandoned here with the, frankly, disgusting baby food, let’s get going.” He shoved the car into gear and lurched forward, out of the shelter of the cot and towards the cushion where Jeremy and Richard had been pinned down earlier, humming loudly, most likely in an attempt to drown out any continued squabbling between his two colleagues.

It didn’t take that long to cross the room in a straight line, but it felt like an age. Every time one of them looked out of the window and saw an adult crossing the room, or there was a wail from the darkened cot room, or one of the various prams, they’d panic. Then, of course, there were obstacles at every turn. The evoque was happy to clamber over all sorts of things, but at one point it got some sort of string wound round one of its wheels.

Still, they made it and the two cars were still there. Richard, who had to wait for Jeremy to get out, was practically vibrating with impatience while the older man extracted himself from the car, the suspense about the state of the cars was so significant.

“Maybe if they’re really horrible we can drag them up to a tap somewhere, find a car wash?” he suggested to James as he scrambled out of the back seat.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m still not letting you back in my car if you touch anything really disgusting,” James reminded him.

“Neat freak,” grinned Richard, a parting gift as he went to inspect his golf.

In fact, it seemed undisturbed. Whilst the baby with the dodgy stomach had long since moved away both cars simply sat precisely where they’d been, still hidden by the cushion.

“Ready?” asked Jeremy, looking back at Richard to show his fingers pinching his nose.

“Wuss,” said Richard, striding towards his car and, with just the barest of checks, leaping in through the window. “It’s all fine,” he sniffed a bit. “Faintest whiff.”

Jeremy giggled, turning to his hummer and opening the door with a flourish.

“And?” asked Richard.

“Oh do stop faffing about, man!” called James from his car.

“That baby was so noxious it could have killed me,” pronounced Jeremy, before taking a deep sniff of his car’s seats. “No worse than James May after a curry,” he declared.

James rolled his eyes. “Back to base?”

“I think so,” agreed Jeremy. “We need to find somewhere safe to sleep while the cars are out of action, then sneak into the next room in the morning.”

“We were hiding under a doll’s cot, and the doll was much larger than us – at the moment – I think once everyone’s gone for the evening that will be fine,” said James.

“As long as there’s enough space to steer clear of his late night fidgeting,” replied Jeremy. “And your snoring.”


	3. Sahara

It was odd, waking up in what felt like a bed that was as big as a normal room. Odder waking up to discover that one of your mates was using you as a teddy bear and the other a pillow. Richard groaned.

“James,” he grunted. “Can you move your head?”

James replied with some incomprehensible groaning, followed by a particularly impressive snore.

“Be quiet,” said Jeremy, raising an arm to cover his eyes.

“Really, all this space and you thought you’d steal mine?” complained Richard, shifting himself from between the others by wriggling downwards vigorously, his legs falling over the side of the cot – between the bars – as he did so.

“Agh!” he squeaked. “Jez!” Suddenly keen to hold on to his friend, he grabbed at his foot, clinging tightly to the first thing his hand succeeded in touching.

“What?!” Jez shot up. Undisturbable moments before, suddenly he was awake and peering blurrily at Richard in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Trying not to fall off!”

“Well if you will be in a rush to leap out of bed,” shrugged Jeremy, pulling his foot towards his body and dragging Richard with it.

“Thanks, mate,” said Richard. “I wasn’t in that much of a rush, just keen not to get crushed by everyone’s blubber.”

“I could push you back over,” offered Jeremy.

“That’s fine, thanks, I’ll make my own way down,” said Richard hastily, making his way to the side of the cot on his feet this time and cautiously making his way down the leg onto the ground.

Jeremy, likely already asleep again, didn’t respond.

Richard wandered under the cot to his car, checking it over, and taking a look to see if he could face eating any more of the mushed up shepherd’s pie.

The shepherd’s pie was gone, even the mess it had made on the carpet.

Which, come to think of it, had been a different colour – more of a very faded green than a very faded pink. Alert now, Richard looked out, beyond the cover of the cot.

“Guys?” he called up to the others. “Guys!”

No response. Of course, they’d been nearly impossible to disturb in person, so yelling probably wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He grabbed hold of the blanket they’d all scrambled up last night, hauling himself back onto the cot and almost treading on James in his haste.

“Guys!” he shook them.

Two pairs of blue eyes opened and glared at him.

“We’ve changed rooms,” he exclaimed. “The babies are bigger, and faster!”

“Maybe they’re less likely to eat us though?” groaned James, nonetheless pushing himself into a sitting position.

“There are going to be a lot more shoes,” muttered Jeremy, without really moving.

“Possibly less poo,” suggested Richard hopefully.

“Fantastic, a reduction of excrement, just what I’ve always hoped for,” added Jeremy, still refusing to sit up.

“Men!” yelled a voice, far too close to them, stubby – but enormous – fingers reaching through the bars of the cot and grabbing all three of them, crushing them together.

“Jez!” gasped Richard, “your blubber’s crushing me! That’s twice already this morning!”

“Get your elbow out of my face, you great oaf,” added James, squirming round in the toddler’s hand, partly to get his head out of the way, and partly to try to see what the toddler had in mind.

“I have never been moaned at so much in my life,” complained Jeremy. “Hamster, you are too short, my torso is simply a part of my body, deal with it.”

“Just imagine, you could be face to face with him,” pointed out James, laughing.

“Maybe next time I’ll bring a snorkel,” suggested Richard.

“Woah!” yelled James, who now had a much better view. “Brace yourselves, incoming sand box!”

“It’ll be an improvement over breathing through Jeremy’s chest hair.”

Jeremy choked back a laugh, which didn’t aid Richard’s breathing at all.

“Dying,” gasped Richard, as they all hit the sand and the toddler let go, apparently no longer interested in the small people and much more keen on digging a hole in the sand box.

“Don’t let him bury you!” said Jeremy.

“There’s a thought,” winced James, standing up in the sand and brushing himself off.

Richard sneezed massively, leaping up from the sand and spitting out a vast mouthful of it. “That’s horrible,” he complained.

“Worse than the chest hair?” asked James.

“Possibly not,” conceded Richard.

“We need to get out of here,” pointed out Jeremy, “before the sprog and his spade get ideas.”

“He’s got his head in a bucket at the moment,” observed Richard.

“This way,” said James, climbing up a nearby sand peak.

“James?” called Jeremy, nudging Richard as he noticed James heading in the wrong direction. “Look, the side’s here. It’s not the Sahara you know.”

Richard giggled, then abruptly sneezed out another load of sand.

“Argh! You’re worse than the inmates!” objected Jeremy, wiping his hands on his jeans, though Richard hadn’t been anywhere near spraying him.

“I’m full of sand,” spluttered Richard.

“You’ll be fine,” said James, reappearing next to Jeremy. “This way then?” he asked, this time apparently noticing the edge of the sandpit.

Jeremy chuckled. “Your sense of direction, it never ceases to amaze me.” Walking alongside James through the sand to the wall.

“If we give him a boost?” suggested Richard, looking at the height of the wall, and Jeremy.

Jeremy frowned at James, then Richard. “But?” He waved his hands between them, clearly indication the difference in their size.

“Yes,” said Richard, holding a finger up. “But once at the top of the wall, James will be able to lift me up, whilst I’ve got no hope of lifting James.”

“He has a point,” shrugged James.

“We’re going to launch you sideways!” protested Jeremy.

“I’m prepared,” said James, moving to stand between the others.

“Ready?” asked Richard, looking at Jeremy as he reached down to James’s left foot.

“No, but…” Jeremy bent down with a groan, grabbing James’s other foot.

“Go!”

“Not on three?”

“Just go!” groaned Richard, attempting to hurl James upwards without any other assistance.

“Go!” said Jeremy, finally joining in.

There was a lot of wobbling and shouting. James, who without the others below him would probably have passed for drunk, found himself desperately trying to find purchase on the wall itself, and then finally Richard gave way and they all tumbled into the sand, Richard buried beneath the two larger men.

Richard groaned, once more finding himself spitting out sand in an effort to clear his mouth. “Really, I think today would be improved if I just went back to bed for the rest of the day,” he suggested.

“It’s you that got us up this morning,” pointed out Jeremy, hauling himself up off Richard, then reaching down to tug his friend off the ground. “You OK?”

“I think I’ve just gone on the extreme diet by pummelling plan, but I’m definitely still alive,” said Richard.

“It was your plan,” pointed out James, brushing himself off.

“It was a good plan,” insisted Richard. “I just need to build myself a box.”

“You know.” James’s eyes twinkled. “Forget you lifting me, why don’t we just shuffle enough sand into a hill that we can climb?”

“That’s a better plan,” grinned Richard. “Though the spades might be a bit big.”

“Manual labour?” asked Jeremy. “I think I should direct.”

“Luckily, we disagree,” said James, turning to face away from the wall and using his arms and legs to shove as much sand as he could towards the wall.

“Puppy!” laughed Richard, joining in with enthusiasm reminiscent of an actual puppy, spraying the unprepared Jeremy with a smattering of sand.

“Told you you didn’t want to direct,” said James.

“Apparently,” grumbled Jeremy, blinking his eyes frantically and running his hand through his hair, an avalanche of sand cascading down his shoulders.

“He’s quite effective though,” pointed out James, gesturing at the growing mound of sand. “I think I could probably reach the top of the wall from there.”

To demonstrate, he carefully mounted the little hill, leaning flat against the wall and stretching to get his fingers just over the top of the wall. “If you gave me a boost now?” he asked.

Jeremy and Richard exchanged a wary glance, though James’s request was sensible.

“This time,” said Jeremy. “Try not to collapse in a tiny, wimpy heap.”

“Thanks, Jez,” muttered Richard. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

They lined up again, this time Richard tried to brace himself against the wall, though with the hill behind him, it probably wasn’t going to help.

“Ready?” asked Jeremy.

“Yeah,” grunted James, trying to grip his fingertips on the top of the wall more firmly.

“Yeah, I think so,” said Richard.

“Steady.”

“Get on with it man!”

“Go!”

They pushed, boosting James the 5 mms or so he needed to haul himself onto the top of the wall. As James’s legs scrambled up behind him, Richard collapsed back into the sand, no longer caring how covered in it he was.

“Come on then,” complained James. “I don’t want to sit on this wall all day.”

“We could just leave him,” offered Jeremy.

James grinned. “Tempting. Not sure I can lift you without help though.”

“He’s no use anyway, tiny hamster muscles.”

“Hey!” objected Richard, sitting up again and staggering to his feet. 

Jeremy grinned. “Come on, Hamster.” He beckoned him over, standing behind him and lifting him as Richard raised his arms and James grabbed his hands.

“This isn’t the way to make me taller, you know,” groaned Richard, his arms protesting the treatment as James finally managed to get him onto the ledge.

“Shame,” said James. “I thought you might make 3cms if we pulled really hard.”

“Ha ha,” responded Richard. “And the ape?”

“I’m working up to it,” laughed James.

By the time all three of them were on firm ground outside the sandbox, and free from toddler abuse, it felt as though it should already be evening. In fact it was only 11am, as declared by the overhead clock.

“We should go back for the cars,” said Richard. “Start looking for this shoe of yours.”

“Not mine,” protested Jeremy. “I’ve not lost any shoes.”

“No, we’d be in real trouble if we had to find one of his flippers,” put in James.

……………………………………………………

“We need to split up to search,” announced Jeremy, leaning against his hummer to take a break when they finally got back.

“Yes, that sounds much safer,” said Richard, raising an eyebrow.

“What!” protested Jeremy. “It’s not like you’re any help to me when I’m being attacked by a gigantic toddler.”

“That is true,” agreed Richard. “OK, fine, we’re going for the take the plaster off quickly get it over as soon as possible approach then?”

“Yes,” said Jeremy.

“Don’t you think Wilman will find us all wandering about not talking to each other a bit dull?” asked James.

“No, because I have discovered miniature radios,” grinned Jeremy, reaching into the hummer and pulling out a box that was approximately the same size as Richard’s torso.

“It’s not entirely portable,” observed Richard.

“It’s better than nothing,” said Jeremy. “Just pop it on the passenger seat.”

“And if one of us gets into trouble the others will come running to the rescue?” asked James.

“Probably not,” said Richard. “But there’s always hope.”

“When we’ve finished laughing,” put in Jeremy.

James grinned. “You’re a pair of cocks,” he declared. “Right, I’ll take this half of the room.” He gestured to the left hand side of the room.

“Right side,” shouted Jeremy abruptly.

Richard looked at them. “Half each? Is it my day off?”

“Nope,” said James.

“You get the toilets,” added Jeremy, pointing at the door in on the right hand side of the room.

Richard’s face fell.


	4. Toilets

James drove cautiously round the outskirts of the room, keeping his eye out for stray shoes. There wasn’t really much in the way of stray footwear that he could see, more random toys strewn throughout his path, crayons, pebbles, inconveniently hard to drive on sections of shag pile carpet and an astonishing number of books. He needed to keep his eyes peeled. In fact, although the discarded objects were a challenge, it was the addition of the door to the outside that was accompanied (nearly always) by unpredictable feet that moved at speed. Crossing that doorway was a bit like running a gauntlet.

He decided, when he finally reached it, that the thing to do was wait for lunchtime. All of the children would head indoors and stay there for a predictable length of time, giving him time to cross without getting trodden on.

He was right. He drove across without any problems.

Then, moments later, as he was distracted by celebrating his success, a hand came down and grabbed his car, and he heard a yell of, “car,” nearby.

………………………………………………………

Like James, Jeremy followed the edge of the room, in the theory that no one was likely to tread on him there. For a while, he followed Richard, edging his way towards the facilities, trying to stay out from underfoot and ranting to himself about what he might find there.

Jeremy may have laughed at him a bit about that one.

And then as Richard disappeared into the doorway, Jeremy continued on.

The ground got busier, there were feet everywhere, though still no lost shoes. Children ran past at great speed, their feet shaking the ground as they went past, making Jeremy feel as though there’d been an earthquake.

Then Jeremy ended up underneath the table as everyone ate their lunch. Feet everywhere! It was a good place for looking at shoes, but the state of the floor was disgusting. Jeremy was fairly certain his hummer’s wheels were now gunged up with a combination of mushy peas and jelly.

Reaching for his radio to share his complaints with his friends, Jeremy was interrupted by a wail from Richard.

“One of them’s got me!” yelled Richard. “And he’s going for the toilet!”

Crap.

Literally, crap.

For a moment Jeremy laughed, Richard’s voice conjuring some almost certainly accurate images of the expression on his face. But then dunking in the toilet probably was an emergency rescue situation.

“What do you think, James?” Jeremy called on the radio.

“I think it’s your department, you’re closer and I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

What? “What do you mean you’re a bit busy? You’re driving round a nursery searching for a shoe!”

“I’m really not just now!” This time Jeremy could hear the grimace in James’s teeth, clearly something was going on there too.

“Are you OK, Slow?”

“I think Slow is really not an appropriate term just now!” yelled back James. “Just go get Hamster!”

“Thunderbird 1 to the rescue,” said Jeremy to himself, looking round at the hummer and changing his mind. “Thunderbird 2,” he corrected himself. “That one was way better anyway.” Then extracting himself from under the table, he headed for the toilets.

Richard was in trouble.

Probably only a minute after he’d entered the toilets, one of the kids had trodden on his car, slipping across the floor on top of him for a moment, then grabbing hold of one of the sinks and rescuing himself.

And, of course, picking up Richard and his car curiously as he did so.

Initially, he’d popped Richard into his pocket, but then once the trousers had come down so that he could sit on the toilet, the little boy had reached into his pocket and started flying Richard’s car around.

Then he’d grabbed himself to direct his wee, and Richard had ended up floating in his car in the toilet.

Richard had to admit, he was quite grateful the little boy had forgotten to flush the toilet. And, for the moment, his car seemed to be floating quite well. The smell was something else though.

Then, of course, because that was the way his luck was going, the car began to take on water.

“Jez!!!” screamed Richard.

Jeremy, no longer mucking about and heading directly to the toilets, had no idea what he was going to do. If he could momentarily make himself bigger again, that would do it. Possibly a miniature ladder, or some string. What was he going to do?

Then, rounding the corner, he spied the toilet roll, hanging right down to the floor.

He could climb up that.

………………………………………………

James would really like a break. For ten minutes straight, he had been lined up at the top of the slide, let go, then picked up again at the bottom and put back at the top. His stomach was churning, and he was certain that in a minute his luck was going to run out and he was going to crash into something more solid than a cuddly toy. The only upside he could see was that he wasn’t currently swimming in the toilet. This place was worse than the baby room!

Then, as if answering his prayers in the worst possible way, another child appeared and snatched him as he accelerated down the slide, his course abruptly changed and he found himself clutched in the hand of another toddler, apparently facing off with the first.

“Oh cock,” he said, irritated at his inability to split them up, and wondering if there was any way to influence their stand off.

“What’s this all about?” An older, female voice interrupted the children, just as the toddler holding James’s car had raised his hand and looked about to start using James’s car to hit the other toddler.

“Oh, thank God,” sighed James in relief.

“Dylan, give me the car,” added the voice, sternly, clearly exhibiting some psychic tendencies.

James felt himself passed into the adult’s hand, and heaved a second sigh of relief.

…………………………………………

Jeremy finally hung just below the toilet roll holder, careful not to send himself rolling back down to the floor. Slowly, pulling the bulky, but light, paper up towards himself, then began to swing himself towards the –thankfully nearby – toilet.

“Thunderbirds to the rescue!” he cried, as the paper dropped all the way into the toilet bowl. “Hamster?”

The paper completely covered everything. For several moments Jeremy hung in his precarious position, worrying that in fact he’d got the wrong cubicle and Richard was busy drowning in the next one, when a tired voice called back. “Coming!”

The Hamster that reached Jeremy was a bedraggled, shivering creature, but the grin of joy at escaping the toilet was still irrepressible.

“Hamster!” laughed Jeremy with relief, slinging his arm round Richard’s shoulders as he slowly lowered them back to the ground. “How many lives have you got left?”

“I’ve lost count,” coughed Richard. “And this particular life definitely needs cleaning off.”

“Yeah, maybe we can find you some doll’s clothes?”

Richard glared at Jeremy. “Don’t even think about it!”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” came James’s voice as he rolled into the room beside them. “Lego men don’t have clothes anyway, just capes.” He paused, clapping Richard on the shoulder, then added. “Find any shoes in the toilet?”

Richard snorted. “Strangely not!”

Jeremy laughed. “Come on then, Hamster. I think you can get a bath if you climb up that pipe there.”

Richard looked up at the pipes, slowly and tiredly squelching towards them. Behind him, James and Jeremy exchanged a glance, then both moved after him.

“Come on,” said Jeremy. “We’ll have a beach party in the sink!”

Weakly, Richard’s grin returned, and he stepped up onto the first pipe.

The sinks were small, shallow and brightly coloured, so Jeremy’s suggestion that they pretend to be at the beach didn’t seem so out of place. Richard lay down in the water, still easily within his depth, washing away the grime and urine from his excursion, along with a significant amount of sand from earlier on, uncaring that he was fully clothed. Slightly more cautious, James and Jeremy, stood at the edges of the lapping water, their shoes dry at the side of the sink, paddling and laughing at Richard.

“You know, when I talked about going to the beach for the day a while ago, this wasn’t really what I was imagining,” observed James.

“But you should revel in my magnificent invention,” objected Jeremy. “I have created beach from nothing. I’ve even found sand.” He gestured to the pile of sand now stuck to the basin below Richard.

“I’m pretty certain that sand’s been in Hammond’s pants, and I’m definitely not building a sandcastle with it.”

“Shhh…” complained Richard. “I’m imagining I’m having a relaxing bath, and you two keep spoiling the illusion.”

“I’m hur….” began Jeremy.

“We need to move,” hissed James, interrupting their squabble and nudging Jeremy to point at the door, where a small head covered in completely wild blonde hair had just entered.

Jeremy nodded, bending down to grab Richard’s arm and tug at him. “Now, Hamster,” he whispered.

Richard moved, squelching as quietly as he could after James and Jeremy as they climbed out of the sink and retrieved their shoes.

“That is not quiet,” James told him. “You need to be stealthy!”

“I’m not very good at quiet,” admitted Richard, pitiful in his completely sodden outfit as he looked up at James.

James, ignoring Jeremy giggling in the background, sighed. “We’re going to have to dry you off.”

“I’m not wearing your clothes again,” put in Richard. “It’s not that cold in here.”

Jeremy snorted, unable to hold it in any longer. “You need to stop getting wet then. Maybe you can go naked, you are toy sized. Action Man does it all the time.”

Richard glared at him. “I’m not going naked either, I’ll dry.”

James rolled his eyes. “There is a hand dryer,” he pointed out. “We just need to dangle him under it.”

“Dangle?” squeaked Richard.

Five minutes later, when the toilets were once again empty, James tied the last knot in the shoelace they’d discovered behind the radiator around Richard’s waist and, after checking that Jeremy was holding on to his end, pushed the smaller man off the radiator, into the path of the dryer.

Richard shrieked as he fell. “You bastards!”

James sniggered. “He’s never very grateful for our efforts, is he?”

“It’s not working!” called Richard, waving his arms at the dryer. “It can’t see me.”

“That’s because you’re pitifully small,” yelled back Jeremy. “You need to move more. Swing! Flap your arms about!”

Eventually, once Jeremy and James managed to help Richard swing dramatically off the radiator and into mid air, the dryer activated, and slowly Richard was dried off. When they finally hauled him back up to the top of the radiator, his hair was fluffy like he’d been in an actual tumble dryer, and he felt incredibly warm to the touch.

“Do you think that you can manage to stay out of trouble now?” James asked him as he untied the shoelace.

“Well…” began Richard, “I hardly…”

“And who else was in trouble when Richard was getting dunked?” pointed out Jeremy.

“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” grinned James sheepishly. “I was joy riding down the slide, if you must know.”

“Speed freak,” laughed Richard.

“For I am, Captain Quickly!” James posed in an effort to show off his muscles in an echo of his customary victory dance.

“It’s not working,” said Richard. “I can’t picture it.”

Jeremy spluttered a laugh. “Never,” he finally choked out.

“Ha ha,” said James. “You’re riding in Jezza’s car then,” he informed Richard.

“What? Why?” protested Jeremy.

“Because no one managed to rescue his car from the toilet, it’s probably been flushed by now, and I’m too offended to let him in my car.”

“This rescuing business seems very drawn out,” said Jeremy, watching Richard climb into his car.

“Have fun!” called James smugly.

“Richard,” said Jeremy, as he climbed into the sanctuary of his car. “We need to find you another car.”

“I don’t think I can manage to do any online purchasing just now, Jez,” replied Richard, raising an eyebrow sceptically at his friend.

“We’re in a nursery,” said Jez. “It’s like being in a toy shop, if you’re looking for used, slobbered on things.”

“You think we should find their box of toy cars and have a rummage?”

Jeremy nodded slowly. “Yes, we might even find a shoe while we’re at it.”

Richard shrugged. “James’ll be good at the shoe finding, we’re going to look for a car.” He paused dramatically. “But I don’t know what makes these cars go. If we find a toy car here, it might just be a toy car.”

His friend grinned. “Only one way to find out!”


	5. The Backup Car

It didn’t take too long to find the cars, for a start, there was a large play mat in the corner of the room. Someone had been busy, and a lot of the cars were still lined up as though they were in a showroom, Richard and Jeremy were very impressed.

“Come on then,” grinned Richard, admiring the grand, red plastic garage. “Sell me a car, Jez.”

“Over here, sir, I think you’ll enjoy the… what is this?” Jeremy stopped. “This isn’t a real car.”

“Jez, it’s a toy car, that’s the whole point!”

“It’s supposed to look like a real car.” Jeremy looked as though he was building up to a proper rant.

“Well, it is, a bit,” offered Richard. “I think it’s a themed one though, like Thor the superhero.”

“I don’t know Thor.” Jeremy looked dejected.

“Like Batman, only blonder,” said Richard. “I can’t get into that one anyway, so it’s no good, let’s find one with a window or a door or something.”

“That’s a real car,” insisted Jeremy.

“Maybe, yeah. I thought you liked the Batmobile in the end?”

“It wasn’t bad,” admitted Jeremy.

“It had wings and fired nerf bullets! And you fitted in it!”

Jeremy grinned slightly at the memory. “And it saved us from a spider.”

“Yes, that too,” Richard shuddered.

“OOohhh, look,” Jeremy’s enthusiasm returned. “A brown Volvo! You could have this!”

Richard frowned, still completely baffled. It looked like Jeremy – albeit at 3cm tall – it sounded like Jeremy, but… “Why would I want a brown Volvo? Are your eyes working OK? I’m Richard, not James!”

Jeremy’s head hung down, and he turned slightly away from Richard. “Maybe you should just stay with me in the hummer,” he mumbled.

“Jez? If I do that I’ll annoy you quite a lot.” Richard crept round his friend, reaching up to touch his arm. “What is it?”

“I…” Jeremy stalled. “I nearly didn’t make it,” he said, quickly, almost quickly enough that Richard couldn’t follow. “I know we laugh about it all the time, but I don’t really want anything to happen to you.”

Richard almost laughed, but then caught himself in time. “And your solution to that is a brown Volvo?”

“Why would anyone want that? The kids won’t pick it up, so you won’t end up in the toilet.” Jeremy seemed very clear with his train of thought.

Slowly, cautiously, because it wasn’t something they did a lot – except, obviously, for in situations of dire panic – Richard put his arm round Jeremy’s waist, pulling the older man against him in an attempt to reassure him. “Jez, I’m fine. You made it, and I don’t think I’m likely to get another dunking today.”

Jeremy’s arms came round Richard’s back, and for a moment, they simply stood there silently, surrounded by battered toy cars. Then Jeremy heaved out a sigh that seemed to release something, and he was abruptly back to normal, gently releasing Richard and marching off down the rows of cars.

…………………………………………

James was quite enjoying himself. The day seemed to be winding down, and whilst there was still a great deal of peril to be had, he was certain he was getting better at dodging it. He even suspected that one or two of them had left. He’d found some cut up grapes that he’d managed to squeeze into the back of his car to eat later, and he’d even successfully searched through a pile of lost property.

No shoes. At least, none that looked like anything he thought Wilman would be looking for.

And now he’d found somewhere better to stay the night. It was gaudy, naturally, but it had rooms and an actual bed, so he thought he was doing quite well. He’d radioed the information to Jeremy, but Jeremy wasn’t responding at the moment so that was going to have to wait.

James climbed onto the bed and fell asleep.

………………………………………………………

“I’ve got it!” called Jez. “Look!” He waved about madly and enthusiastically, beckoning Richard over immediately.

“Jez, it’s a beetle,” said Richard. “I suppose I should be grateful that it’s not brown?”

“It’s the perfect thing! It’s like your Porsche, that you like so much, but it’s disguised as something unappealing, so the kids won’t want it.”

“Jez, it’s a beetle,” repeated Richard, because he really thought that needed mentioning again.

“It won’t drive like a beetle,” insisted Jeremy, though he couldn’t possibly know that. “It’s a toy car!”

He did have a point, none of the cars they’d driven had really felt like anything specific. More sort of tiny and magic than anything. “But it’s a beetle!”

Jeremy beamed at him. “It’s the perfect forfeit car. You lost your car, and now you’re in the forfeit car.”

“Really?”

Jeremy beamed. “You’d better check you can get in it OK.”

“I could lie,” muttered Richard to himself. “Or just refuse, he’s not really my boss.” He stepped in front of the little, pale pink, car, bracing himself. “It’s a beetle. I’d rather have that weird truck over there. Or a motorbike. Or Thor’s car. Anything really.” But then he caught Jeremy’s eye. Maybe the oaf was right, he could be subtle, not get grabbed by anyone, and concede to driving the pink forfeit car.

He climbed in, sitting in the driver’s seat and easily reaching the pedals. “It fits,” he sighed.

“I knew it! Perfect,” celebrated Jeremy.

“Do I really have to though?” he asked. “I don’t like the beetle.”

“Yes, it’s perfect,” insisted Jeremy. “Now you take it on a test drive round the track, and I’ll see if I can grab James.”

To Richard’s disappointment the beetle did work. Jeremy was right though, it didn’t really feel any worse than his golf, it was only psychology that was telling him it was a terrible car. He tried to ignore it. Instead, he drove round the mat at speed, sticking to all the marked on roads as closely as he could and skidding around the corners dramatically.

Then Jeremy appeared and started waving at him.

“What?” he stuck his head out of the window and yelled. The radio was long gone with the golf. “I was just testing it!”

“I can’t get hold of James!”

Richard sighed, eyeing Jeremy up in an attempt to gauge his reaction. Ordinarily, he’d be more likely to mock than anything, not given to any kind of paranoia about James’s well-being, but after their revelations earlier, Richard had to admit that he found him hard to predict.

“He’s probably polishing the toddler fingerprints off his car or something,” suggested Richard, relieved when Jeremy’s frown lightened.

“Yeah, probably. It’d be good to find him though,” he added.

Richard nodded. “Yeah, it’s getting on a bit anyway. Kids are headed home, probably not long til the cars stop working.”

“Right, we’ve got to think like James,” announced Jeremy, trying to alter his posture. “Where would we be?”

“I don’t think I can do a James,” said Richard. “Can I just say he’s polishing his car?”

“Call yourself a presenter? Try harder!” Jeremy prodded him.

Richard rolled his eyes, then whilst Jeremy closed his eyes to find his inner James, reached into Jeremy’s car and tried the radio again.

“I’m going to go home later and arrange my bookcases alphabetically,” said Jeremy dramatically. “I’m going to iron my socks. And say cock a lot,” he added. “And I’m over…” he waved his arm vaguely into the room. “There.”

Richard sidled up to him. “I think you’ll find he’s more….” He manoeuvred Jeremy’s arm left about 30 degrees. “There.”

“Your inner James?”

“Your inner radio, you didn’t think you’d give it another go?”

Jeremy laughed. “Lead on then, Hamster.”

A sleepy James met them at the door to a Little People house, looking slightly sheepish. “Sorry chaps,” he started. “I nodded off.” He stepped into the house, closing the door behind him. “What do you think of my place though?”

“Very nice, did it come with the grapes?” asked Richard.

James laughed. “Salvaged on the way over.” He wandered through the house. “Kitchen – all plastic, so no cooking. Lounge, TV picture doesn’t change unless you sit turning the little handle, I tried it. Comfy sofa though.”

“Wow,” said Jeremy, grinning. “And upstairs?”

“Bathroom and bedroom,” stated James.

“One bedroom?”

“There weren’t a lot of options,” pointed out James. “It’s not like that empty town in Spain.”

“So we need to share?” asked Jeremy.

Richard sighed. “Am I either sleeping on the sofa or drowning in blubber?” he asked.

James smiled apologetically. “I couldn’t find anything else that was any good, the cot from last night has gone, but there are three beds provided someone can handle the top bunk.”

……………………………………………………………

In fact, James took the top bunk, deciding that he liked having a bit of space to himself. Then Richard took the bottom bunk beneath him, and Jeremy stretched out on the single bed. They went to bed early and unusually quietly, with little to do as it got dark. Then, with each of them lying comfortably in bed, Jeremy broke the silence.

“I think we should stick together tomorrow,” said Jeremy, quietly.

“What about all this finding a shoe business?” asked James gently, apparently detecting Jeremy’s mood.

“Sticking together is more important,” insisted Jeremy.

“But we normally…” began James.

“… Is this about, umm, earlier?” asked Richard.

“I’m not a very good Thunderbird,” said Jeremy. “Today was a lot closer than it should’ve been. It wasn’t larking about leaving someone stuck in a field, it was proper danger of drowning real. And James was breaking the sound barrier involuntarily at the same time.”

“Jez,” said Richard, reaching out his hand to touch Jeremy’s and squeezing.

“We’ll stick together,” confirmed James calmly. “You’re right, a place like this it’ll take both of us to keep him out of trouble.”

Jeremy snorted, breaking some of the heavy mood, and Richard decided now wasn’t the time to argue.

Waking up in the morning was considerably less tranquil.

Apparently, they’d overslept. The first thing Richard knew about morning was when he abruptly fell out of bed, crashing against the side of Jeremy’s single bed as the entire house was lifted and tipped on its side.

“Cock,” said James from somewhere above Richard’s head, probably closer than he had been moments before.

“Help! I’m being attacked by a spaniel in my sleep!” cried Jeremy, dramatic as ever. 

“Stop yelling in my ear, you insufferable oaf, I’m not attacking you, someone’s shaking the house!”

“If you want me to do anything, you still need to get off me,” persisted Jeremy.

“I’m going, just let me find the floor,” muttered James.

“Ooof, watch where you’re putting your hands.”

“Willingly, as soon as I can open the curtains to see what I’m doing,” retorted James.

“Where’s Hamster? Did you squash him?” asked Jeremy, patting at his bed as though he was expecting to find Richard there too as James finally made it off the bed and sat on the wall that was currently pretending to be the floor.

“I’m here,” said Richard, grateful that the bunk bed had apparently been fastened to the wall somehow, and he merely needed to extract himself from the gap beneath Jeremy’s bed.

“Where?” Jeremy peered around his bed, shuffling the blankets about as James finally made it to the curtains to check out what was actually going on.

“Here!” Finally, Richard’s head emerged above the bed, grinning broadly at them both. “Well that was a rude awakening,” he added.

“I think we should exit promptly, chaps,” said James, from his vantage point by the window. “This isn’t going to get any better.”

“What?” asked Jeremy, warily.

“There are several small children here, and they’re trying to make sure all the little men fall out of the house and into their homemade swimming pool.”

“I don’t want to go swimming,” said Richard.

James nodded, well aware. “That window then,” he pointed to the second window, on the other side of the room, and dived towards it between Jeremy’s sideways bed and the bunk bed. “Now!”

Richard, blinking in shock at seeing James moving so fast, pushed off the side of Jeremy’s bed and just managed to grab the window frame, sticking one leg over the edge of the window frame before anything else could move. Behind him, Jeremy was slower, taking the time to gather up a few belongings – in particular shoes – and toss them through the window, before making a last minute grab for the window frame, ending up dangling with only his hands outside the house.

“James?” asked Richard, nodding down to where Jeremy hung below the window, completely stuck.

James rolled his eyes, shuffling back from where he’d been trying to cross the side of the house, and grabbing at one of Jeremy’s wrists. “You got him?” he asked Richard.

Richard nodded, though honestly it didn’t feel like he was likely to have much effect at this point.

“You’re going to have to stand on the wall, man,” pointed out James.

“Oh yeah.” Richard climbed out and joined James on top of the wall, his knees compensating for the shaking below them as best they could, but still wobbling as they moved.

“Ready?” James looked at him, bracing his legs as best he could and heaving. Richard joined him, slowly inching Jeremy free of the house.

“Thanks guys,” gasped Jeremy, when his torso finally cleared the window and he was able to scramble out on his own, James and Richard practically on their knees as a result of the effort.

“You’re right,” said Richard. “This Thunderbirds business is hard going.”

“Definitely time to get to the cars,” said James firmly. “No more incidents!”

The cars were where they’d left them, but nothing else was. As before, the children were even bigger and even faster, though Jeremy was hoping less likely to eat anyone or drop them down the toilet.

“Sticking together then,” Jeremy reminded the others. “Follow me!” He headed off into the room in a seemingly arbitrary direction, closely followed by a disastrous pink beetle that James hadn’t even bothered to mock yet it was so bad, and a battered evoque.

The day before, whilst sticking to the edges of the room, all hell had broken loose repeatedly, so Jeremy decided that brazenness was the way to go – right through the middle of the room. Directly to anything that looked like it might be hiding shoes.

Naturally, James didn’t agree. “Jeremy? Are you deliberately trying to get us nabbed or trampled on? I thought the idea was to have a quieter day?”

“This is my genius plan,” insisted Jeremy. “We will slip by unnoticed by not looking suspicious.”

“Jez, I don’t think little kids worry very much about suspicious,” put in Richard, sticking his head out of his window to yell. “And honestly, I don’t care if an adult picks me up.”

“Also, I don’t know if you noticed, but the middle of the room houses a lot more small feet,” added James.

“We’ll be fiiiiinnee,” said Jeremy, convincing no one.

“Jez?” called Richard.

He didn’t continue. Jeremy turned round to see what was going on, swerving the car slightly and then suddenly finding himself in mid air. Moments later, he saw another hand scoop James up and almost immediately heard James come on the radio.

“Well that went well didn’t it, Clarkson?”

Jeremy sighed, and decided that since genius hadn’t worked he might as well try crossing his fingers. He looked around, trying to work out if he could spot Richard. “Can you see Hamster?” he asked James.

“Different child, same group,” said James. “He looks fine.” He paused, then added, “Though not for long, looking at where we’re going!”

Jeremy turned back, his eyes widening as he saw what was ahead.

Before them, stretched a maze of orange track, with at least one loop the loop and, towards the end, what looked like a crossover where cars might hurtle into each other. Several small cars had been lined up already, and Jeremy could see Richard’s little beetle swiftly heading towards that line, ready to be shot around that loop. He and James weren’t far behind.


	6. Hot Wheels

Richard stared at the hot wheels track, undecided. The thrill seeker in him had to admit that the track looked pretty tempting. He’d seen these things working, of course. His kids had had one. For that matter, he’d definitely had something similar as a kid – though he distinctly remembered the cars falling off a lot. Still, he’d never thought he’d be driving round one.

Usually, when he did some ridiculous stunt, he’d had the opportunity to check it out. And Andy Wilman and Jeremy would have checked it out too, they’d all have made sure it was fine. Then again, thought Richard, his heart lifting, Andy had sent them to this place, so maybe he’d checked this out too.

One of the kids lent against the loop, bending it hugely, and Richard’s heart sank again. There was no way Andy could have predicted any of this. He was just hoping it would all turn out OK.

“Right then, Richard,” he told himself. “There’s no way Andy’s going to be able to save you, or Jez or James, you’re going to have to do this. What can you do to make it work?” He looked around himself, pulling the seatbelt tightly around himself and grabbing hold of the steering wheel determinedly.

Behind him, a small hand pressed a button and Richard’s car launched.

…………………………………………

“I’m just going to say now,” said James. “If I die here, I’d rather you didn’t tell the media it was in a toy evoque whilst attempting to ride a hot wheels loop the loop.”

Jeremy grinned. “You don’t think it’s exotic enough?”

“It’s just a bit undignified.”

“Like joining Top Gear was, you mean?”

“That is true,” admitted James. “I might need to rethink my lifestyle.”

“James?” put in Jeremy. “I think, for once, I’ve actually – unlike you – made a good decision.”

“How do you work that out?”

“My car’s too big to fit on the track!”

James laughed. “That leaves you in charge of picking up all the pieces later, of course.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Jeremy, relaxing now that he was spared the track. “How hard can it be?”

“Says the man sitting safely off to one side,” laughed James.

………………………………………………………

The car launch felt as though he was strapped into a rocket ship. Richard felt himself pressed into the seat of the tiny little car and clutched even tighter to the steering wheel. Then he opened his mouth to let out the scream.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

It didn’t really help. The world was rushing by, he was climbing, and somehow even though he knew that he was only 20cms from the ground, it looked as though it was 20m or more, as terrifying as any rollercoaster. Much worse, in fact, normally Richard quite enjoyed rollercoasters.

“AAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” he screamed again, it was kind of helping.

The car was looping, fully upside down and then flying down the other side of the track, the room still flashing past his eyes at speed, when Richard caught a glimpse of something.

Away in the corner of the room, behind a bookcase and a series of beanbags, there was a pile of forgotten looking bits and pieces. Probably mostly toys no one was interested in at the moment, it was hard to tell at the speed he was travelling at. But on top of it all, far above where they’d been stood a large, completely white, racing driver’s shoe.

“Stttiiiiigggg,” yelled Richard, not sure who he was really shouting to, but finally enjoying the ride as it began to slow down a little, at least, until he saw the jump. Rapidly coming towards him, in a feature that looked like belonged in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, there was a gap in the track. Worse, there was clearly another track crossing it, and he was certain that other cars had gone down this track ahead of him, so there was definitely going to be someone else there.

“Nooooooo…..” Richard pressed the brakes, hard but completely ineffectively, taking off and arcing towards the other side of the missing track. To his left, a toy Porsche was aiming for him – appropriate if he’d been in the other car – and Richard braced for impact.

……………………………………………………

It seemed like a long wait, but finally the hand holding James went to place him on the track, adding him to the queue of cars still waiting for their turn. More and more kids seemed to be turning up and adding cars to the line, with a couple perpetually picking cars of the bottom and bringing them back for another go, and yet another child catching the cars that fell.

James swallowed, not at all convinced that the evoque was likely to make its way all the way round the loop. Somehow, the higher, heavier cars seemed to fall off a lot more often.

The car shook as the hand tried to fit his car on the track, shifting the wheels side to side in an effort to engage the car with the track. Then, finally, the hand stopped and the car was on. James sighed, he’d been hopeful for a minute there.

“I’m waiting my turn,” said James. “Don’t forget, you’re on clean up and I want an interesting story about how I died.”

“James,” replied Jeremy. “No one’s looking, why don’t you just climb out of the car?”

Abruptly, James laughed, a chortling, embarrassed noise. “You know, I didn’t think of that.”

“Told you I was a genius,” said Jeremy. “Besides, your car doesn’t really fit so it’s definitely going to fall off the loop.”

“God help us,” muttered James, taking a quick look out of the window of the car then diving out while none of the kids seemed to be looking at him.

……………………………………………………………………

Richard opened his eyes to discover that the Porsche had missed him, barely scraping past his front bumper, but then falling to the ground earlier than him, leaving him to land back on the ramp. Finally, he prized his hands from the steering wheel, going completely limp in the driver’s seat.

“That was too close!” he muttered as the car slowly trundled to a halt and bumped into the car ahead of him.

He was still sitting idly in the driver’s seat when the door opened and Jeremy practically lifted him from the car a few minutes later.

“Come on, Hamster, this is no time to take a nap!” exclaimed Jeremy, hauling him to his feet. “We need to get out of here.”

Richard blinked up at him, his head still spinning from the trip down the track. “Leave the car?”

“You weren’t attached to it, were you? Not named it or anything?” Jeremy smirked at him.

“God no!”

“What’s the problem then?” Jeremy dragged him away from the hot wheels track and over to the hummer, opening the door for him and stuffing him into the back of the hummer.

“Are you all right?” asked James, from the passenger seat, turning and looking worriedly at Richard as he continued to allow Jeremy to manhandle him.

Jeremy grinned. “I think his brain’s still catching up with his body! He can still walk, he’s fine.” The larger man climbed into the car himself, and threw it into gear, driving away from the hot wheels track as fast as reasonably possible, with James humming the Thunderbirds theme beside him.

“He’s turned into one of the puppets,” laughed James, nonetheless fixing Richard with a worried look again, accompanied by a prodding finger.

Richard flapped at him, shaking himself. “I’m fine, just give me a minute.” He took several deep breaths, gripping the edge of the seat tightly as he did so.

“Scary then?” observed James, asking but not really asking.

“Must be, he doesn’t usually even register that sort of thing, thrill seeker,” commented Jeremy.

“Yeah, scary,” admitted Richard, “especially nearly getting mown down by a Porsche. I think I’ve persuaded my heart to get back into my body now though.” He looked around. “Are we away from the little monsters?”

“Yeah,” grinned James. “We’ve abandoned the other cars and made a run for it.”

“James?” said Richard. “We’re going the wrong way.”

“What do you mean? We’re just going away from the kids?”

Richard perked up, looking much more himself, a huge cheeky grin spread across his face. “I saw the shoe!”

Jeremy screeched to a halt, making both James and Richard lurch forwards in their seats, Richard hitting the back of Jeremy’s. “How do you know it was the right one?”

“Andy said we’d know,” pointed out Richard, leaning back again. “It was Stiggy’s shoe.”

“Stig? He’s been colluding with Wilman again?” asked James.

“Apparently,” shrugged Richard. “I don’t think the staff or kids here are going to be wearing Stig’s shoes though, so it must be our shoe.”

“Yes!” Jeremy beamed at him. “Well done, Hamster, you’ve almost made up for all the times I’ve had to rescue you in the last few days.”

Richard frowned. “That was hardly my fault!”

“And yet it’s always you,” observed Jeremy.

“It is,” nodded James. “You attract trouble.” He paused for a moment. “And spiders.”

“Where?” Richard shifted, looking round, initially inside and then outside the car.

“Not now, you pillock,” laughed James. “I meant in general.”

“Oh, right,” Richard relaxed again.

“Which way?” asked Jeremy.

Richard considered not telling him, because really they needed to appreciate him a little bit more, but then he settled for glaring at Jeremy and pointing. He could set them straight later.

……………………………………………………

Jeremy pulled up with a flourish, looking up at what turned out to be a woven basket and the – still invisible – shoe. “You’d better be right about this, Hamster,” he commented.

“I’m right,” said Richard, scrambling out of the car and joining Jeremy.

“Of course it would be on top of a massive basket, wouldn’t it,” grumbled James.

“James, the massive box is about 2ft high,” replied Richard, reaching his hand up the side of the box and taking a hold on one the side of the obstacle.

“I don’t think my vertigo appreciates that, Hammond,” remarked James. “My spatial awareness is clearly relative.”

“More effort,” complained Jeremy, loudly, nonetheless mimicking Richard’s stance and taking hold of the basket. “We could pull James up when we get to the top?” he suggested to Richard. “Reduce the panicking on the way.”

“No thank you,” said James curtly, also taking hold.

The basket was reasonably straight forward to climb, the weave acting as a simple ladder that even James had to admit felt designed for them at their current size. However, it was also quite hard work. From the moment they set off, to the moment Richard reached the top, they climbed in total silence, only harsh breathing and James’s occasional muttered reassurances to himself accompanying them.

At the top, Richard announced his arrival, then approached the shoe.

“How on earth are we going to take something the size of this anywhere?” he asked himself. “For that matter, how are we even going to get it down off here?” He pushed at it experimentally, wondering if he could budge it at all.

……………………………………………

Jeremy and James reached the top of the basket more or less simultaneously, Jeremy hauling himself over the edge and immediately lying down to catch his breath. James, meanwhile, crawled as far from the edge as he could manage, before opening his eyes properly and sitting down for a breather.

“I really hate you,” complained James.

“What have I done?”

“Convinced me to climb that,” said James.

“That wasn’t…” began Jeremy, before looking up enough to catch the glint in James’s eye. “That was definitely Hamster’s fault.”

“Yeah, where is he?”

Jeremy sat up. “I don’t know, but he’s used up all his lives on this trip, he can’t possibly be in trouble again.”

“Right, so you’re feeling lazy therefore it’s all fine?”

“I’m just working up to it,” groaned Jeremy. “Finding the shoe definitely doesn’t compensate for this one though.”

“Come on,” said James, moving close enough to Jeremy to grab his hand and help him to his feet. “He’s probably fallen inside the shoe and got trapped.”

Jeremy snorted, perking up immediately. “That would make some excellent ammunition. Might even last for a couple of series!”

“Exactly,” said James, approaching the shoe and climbing up the white laces.

Jeremy followed, soon peering over the top of the shoe into the darkness alongside James.

“I was expecting Stig feet to be smellier,” commented James.

“With oil, or petrol or something maybe,” grinned Jeremy.

“Or hamster, possibly,” added James. “Hammond! Are you down there?”

“Might as well just admit it, Hamster!” added Jeremy.

They didn’t get any reply.


	7. The Shoe

Stig stood beside Richard inside his shoe. Which was pretty weird all by itself. The fact that Stig’s shoes contained trap doors for tiny people was also pretty weird, but Richard figured he wasn’t going to think too hard about that. For a few minutes Stig simply stood with his arms crossed, looking at Richard, giving no clue about what was going on in his head. So far, all Richard could figure was that Stig didn’t want him going back through the secret door.

Then Jeremy and James started shouting.

Stig, holding his gloved finger to his lips – if he had any – in an unmistakeable sign for silence, pushed Richard to sit on the floor and very clearly gestured that he should stay still. Then he went to the shoe’s main entrance, as it were. From what Richard could see, he simply grabbed Jeremy and James and pulled them inside.

Good job the shoe was quite well cushioned! Still, Richard winced in, sort of, sympathy as he heard two quite rough landings.

“Stig!” said Jeremy. “Is this where you go when you’re not working? You live in your own shoe? Why are you pulling us in here?”

Stig, of course, didn’t reply.

“Did you take the Hamster?” asked James. “Not that I’m complaining, just curious.” He scrambled to his feet, following Stig into the shoe. “I am complaining about the entrance though,” he added.

Stig walked back to Richard, pointing at him then grabbing his arm and pulling him back to his feet.

“Stig?” said Richard, confused.

“Well done, Hamster, you’ve have found a mental Stig!” exclaimed Jeremy. “I think that might be a record even for you.”

“It’s our Stig though,” replied Richard.

Stig very firmly placed his hand in the middle of Richard’s back and pushed him towards James and Jeremy, then placed his hands on his hips and stared at them.

“I’d be mental too if I’d been stuck in this nursery for any length of time,” observed James. “Maybe he’s been round that hot wheels track one too many times?”

“Or the standard of toy cars for racing isn’t good enough,” chimed in Richard.

Jeremy chuckled. “It’s Stig, he might just be allergic to the colour of the carpet.”

Stig continued to stare at them with his hands on his hips.

“What?” asked Jeremy.

The world went dark.

………………………………………………

Jeremy was the first to awake. He sat up with a slow groan, feeling all the muscles in his body, and particularly his back, complain about the abuse he’d put them through. Pulling himself into a sitting position, he rubbed at his face, getting his brain and eyes working well enough to take in his surroundings.

He was on his living room sofa. To his left, James was sprawled uncomfortably on his two seater sofa, snoring loudly, whilst Richard was to his right, curled up in the armchair, asleep. There was no sign of the Stig, though Jeremy thought it was probably worth checking the flat for him first, just in case. He rose to his feet, leaning against the sofa for a minute before setting off.

By the time James stirred, Jeremy was satisfied that the flat was empty of anyone who might decide to suddenly shrink them, or move them anywhere against their will – including small children – and he was sitting on the sofa drinking a coffee, flipping through messages on his phone. Before James even spoke, Jeremy handed him a mug of coffee, and in a comfortable silence they waited for Richard to come round, the third mug of coffee cooling on the table.

“If we ever do that again,” said Jeremy. “I’m definitely going for one of the thunderbirds. He is far too good at finding trouble.”

James grinned. “You don’t think that’s half the fun?”

Slowly, Richard’s eyes began to open, as Jeremy smiled. “Yeah, probably. I’m keeping an eye out for that Stig though.”


End file.
